She must learn again to speakstarting with Istarting with Westarting as the infant doeswith her own true hungerand pleasure and rage.

-- Marge Piercy

Mar 19 Perfect Strangers (A Guest Post for Just Be Enough)

I say I’m afraid of flying, but it’s not so much the flying that scares me. It’s the taking off. Something about the no-turning-back-now, we’re-officially-stuck-in-this-thing-for-real commitment of leaving behind solid ground just doesn’t sit well with me.

The anxiety isn’t bad enough that I refuse to fly at all, but it’s bad enough. In the three or four days leading up to a trip, it consumes me in a way that only irrational fear can, making me feel ungrounded long before my departure time, disconnected from my body and from reality. It manifests in a quiet, inward way that only those who know me well can sense.